


electrum

by EzzyDean



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-25 06:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14372658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzzyDean/pseuds/EzzyDean
Summary: Sometimes, if you look close enough, the past mirrors the present.Sometimes you have to look at the beginning to see what's happening in the present.Sometimes love you thought you could never lose comes back to you again.





	1. i can (still) feel you

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to BoKuroo Week 2018

_**Now -** _

 

“The thing is-” he licks his lips nervously. Which would be a little ridiculous except hasn’t this always made him a little nervous? Looking into those golden eyes, so earnest and loving and full of trust when they focused on him. The first time he had realized he was in love had been when he was gazing into that liquid gold.

 

“The thing is?”

 

“The thing is I can still feel you. I can feel your hands in my hair when I watch tv. Your breath on my neck when I’m falling asleep. Your warmth beside me when I’m cooking in the kitchen. I can hear your laugh when I do something dumb your voice when I doze off on the couch.”

 

Bokuto - and shit does Tetsurou hate the fact that his mind has at some point reverted back to his family name - looks at him. Just looks at him. And it drives Tetsurou crazy. Those eyes. That infinite patience focused on him. Knowing that the galaxies and wonders in that gaze aren’t for him anymore.

 

A pain starts in his chest, just behind his ribs, and he swallows. There’s no way he can even ask for a second - or third or fifth or whatever number they’re on now - chance.

 

He stares into that soft gold and prepares himself to let it all go.

 

—

 

_**Then -** _

 

“Can I tell you a secret,” Koutarou whispers into the darkness of his room. The moonlight peeking through the curtains drapes everything in shades of silver and gray. He can picture Tetsurou sprawled on his own bed across the city, bathed in golden light and swathed in soft yellow sheets as easily as if he was actually there.

 

“Of course you can Kouta. You know that.”

 

Kouta. The name brings a smile to his face and sends a shiver down his spine. It sounds different coming from Tetsurou’s lips than it ever has from anyone else. It’s like a little piece of Koutarou is forever Tetsurou’s somehow, power freely given to him with something as simple as a name.

 

“I still feel you. Like I keep looking at my hands cause I swear I can feel your fingers tangled with mine and I keep looking in the mirror cause it feels like there should be a brand across my cheek where you kissed me and I just. Wow.”

 

Tetsurou laughs. It’s a soft sound of amazement and not the brash burst amusement he’s used to hearing.

 

He loves hearing that sound. Loves hearing and seeing all the ways that Tetsurou lets him in.

 

_He loves Tetsurou._

 

He stares at the silver wash of his ceiling and lets the knot in his chest unravel as the knowledge sinks in.


	2. reunion

_**Now -** _

 

“I can’t let him see me like this,” Tetsurou hisses. Then he promptly slips into Tsukki’s bedroom and half slams the door shut behind himself.

 

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t doing anything important or personal in here.” Tsukki turns his patented glare on Tetsurou. It had stopped being effective on Tetsurou about two days after it started. If it had even lasted that long.

 

“Oh please. Even if you were it’s not like I haven’t seen all there is to see in terms of Tsukishima Kei. Not that impressive in my books,” he adds, almost an afterthought.

 

Tsukki finishes pulling his jeans on and gives Tetsurou a knowing look. “Wow I forgot how absolutely nasty you are when you are panicked. Good thing your words mean nothing to me when you’re like this.”

 

Tetsurou knows that he should just take a couple deep breaths, give an apology that Tsukki will brush off, and just go back to the party. But Bokuto is out there with his smile and his face and his laughter and Tetsurou is broken in a way that he never thought anyone could manage.

 

Tsukki waves him off before Tetsurou can even open his mouth. “It’s a good thing that this welcome back party for Keiji is being held in my apartment and not someone else’s. Like for example Daichi’s? Because I can give you permission to hide out here in my room as long as you like and since I’m feeling magnanimous I’ll even be kind enough not to tell Koutarou exactly where you are.”

 

Bokuto’s name falling from someone else’s lips shouldn’t drive through his chest like a stake. And it certainly shouldn’t make his fingers clench into fists at his sides.

 

But it does.

 

Tsukki shakes his head when Tetsurou sinks onto the bed and curls into a ball but he doesn’t say a word to Tetsurou as he slips out the door. Tetsurou is so focused on the silver bands cupped in the palm of his hand he doesn’t even hear Tsukki speaking as he shuts the door.

 

Soft golden light from Tsukki’s bedside lamp makes the bands shimmer and shine.

 

Or maybe it’s the tears gathering in his eyes.

 

—

_**Then -** _

 

“I am a disaster right now hide me.” Koutarou practically dives into the pile of dirty laundry on the bed.

 

“You’re always a disaster. What’s so special about today? Just cause Kuro is here and you have a big fat crush on him?”

 

Koutarou stares at Kenma, wide eyed and speechless. It had never bothered him before to hear how casual they were with each other. In fact that was one of the things he liked the most about being friends with them all: how relaxed and casual and familiar it all was.

 

But now Koutarou’s fingers are twitching and his legs are shaking with undirectable frustration at a simple name. Kenma is watching him with that all-knowing look. An impressive feat considering he’s not even actually looking at Koutarou. But he knows that Kenma sees him. Heck Kenma probably knows everything about his dumb crush on one of his best friends. Not that it’s a bad thing; Kenma would never spill the beans on Koutarou like that.

 

“You haven’t seen him in, what? Three months? It’s like a little mini reunion. At least that’s what Keiji said,” Kenma adds when Koutarou lets out a surprised noise.

 

See, he tells himself, it’s business as usual. Kenma shortens names and take liberties that others might not. It’s just the way he is even with ever proper Akaashi Keiji. Then again, the voice in his head whispers, he’s also been dating Akaashi for like six months now.

 

He shakes his head and then buries it in his arms a moment later. He’s so overwhelmed with emotions he can’t think straight. He can’t even think crooked.

 

“I love him, Kenma,” he mumbles, words nearly lost in the pile of laundry under him.

 

“He knows.” Koutarou’s head whips up. “We all know how you two feel about each other,” Kenma says. “So just tell him and spare everyone your dancing around and win me dinner for two weeks for being the one to confess first.”

 

Koutarou hears Tetsurou’s voice, even through all the doors and hallways separating them, and it’s like something he never even knew had been misaligned suddenly clicks into place. He hops off the bed with a grin that Kenma doesn’t return. But there is a lively twitch of Kenma’s lips in response.

 

“Good then?”

 

“Golden,” Koutarou replies.


	3. fantasy

_**Now -** _

 

Tetsurou scowls. Akaashi scowls right back at him.

 

“You don’t understand.” Tetsurou’s voice is just short of growling. His fingers are clenching against his thighs and for half a second he considers wringing Akaashi’s neck. Then he reconsiders because Akaashi wouldn’t allow it and would most likely break Tetsurou’s fingers for trying.

 

“Then enlighten me,” Akaashi says testily.

 

“Me and Bokuto? High school sweethearts living happily ever after and all that?” Akaashi stares at him. Waiting for whatever grand revelation Tetsurou has to share. “It is a fantasy,” Tetsurou enunciates carefully, hand chopping at the air for emphasis. “It is a load of crap. There is never going to be a universe where that gets to happen for us.”

 

Akaashi watches him, waiting for what Tetsurou doesn’t know but after a moments of silence Akaashi lets out a long sigh and shakes his head.

 

“You really believe that,” he says and if Tetsurou didn’t know any better he’d think that Akaashi sounds sad.

 

  
—

 

_**Then -** _

 

“I wouldn’t call it a fantasy really.” Koutarou is sprawling on Akaashi’s bed with his feet dangling off the end. Akaashi hums and nods and continues putting sorting through old clothes. “Calling it a fantasy makes it sound like there’s no way for it to happen in real life.”

 

He waves away both of the shirts Akaashi holds up and kicks his feet slowly in the air.

 

“So what is it then if not a fantasy?”

 

“A dream maybe.” Koutarou sighs happily. “A hope certainly. Something that makes me feel warm and powerful and hopeful all at once.”

 

Akaashi pauses in his sorting to stare at Koutarou and he lets him. Who better than one of his closest friends to stare him down and tell him one way or another if he’s being ridiculous or not?

 

Akaashi smiles at him, that quiet gentle one that means Koutarou is making sense and a lot of it, and says, “Sometimes dreams do come true don’t they?”


	4. you can't always get what you want

_**Now and Then and Never and Forever -** _

 

Tsukki and Akaashi are up to something, heads tilted towards each other and voices low enough he can’t hear them even from a few feet away, and Tetsurou knows there’s no way that bodes well for him. Neither does the way that the thump of the music masks his uneven breaths and how he keeps catching glimpses of golden eyes and spiky white and black hair. He’s not trying to avoid anyone in particular, no matter what the bored looks Kenma keeps giving him suggest. He’s just… mingling.

 

By himself.

 

Next to the kitchen counter.

 

Away from everyone else.

 

Away from everyone who knows all his secrets and fantasies and wishes and hopes and dreams.

 

“You can’t hide away forever you know.” Hiding away, possibly forever, is exactly what he plans on doing thanks very much.

 

“I can do whatever I want. I’m an adult.” Tetsurou doesn’t even look when Daichi throws his arm over Tetsurou’s shoulder and pulls him into an awkward hug.

 

“A couple little birdies told me-” Tetsurou snorts, he knows exactly who has been telling Daichi things, “-that you’re being a reclusive asshole.”

 

“Oh. Wow. That’s a bit harsh.”

 

“But it’s true, isn’t it?” Daichi jostles him back and forth a bit with a laugh. “Tell me, oh wise and powerful Kuroo Tetsurou, what do you want? What’s your end game for this?”

 

That is a loaded question and Daichi knows it. Tetsurou hates him a little bit for it. He hates all of them a little bit for it. For rubbing his nose in his mistakes and shoving all the stupid things he’s said and done over the years into his face. But they mean well, they always mean well.

 

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” he explains softly, “cause I can’t… cause I won’t get it.”

 

—

 

It was soft and sweet and kind and doting and warm and wonderful and charming and everything he ever wanted. Or at least everything he thought he wanted. Until it was his and then Koutarou realized it was never what he really wanted at all.

 

What he wanted was soft and sweet and all of that, of course, but it was also sharp and wild and untamed and real. It was a live wire under his skin sparking and snapping and crackling at his senses demanding caution. Or demanding him to throw caution to the wind. It was a contradiction and a comfort. It was every breath held between the crack of lightning and rumble of thunder rushing through his lungs at once.

 

It was Kuroo Tetsurou and Koutarou was madly in love with him and would probably be that way his entire life.

 

He slips in the door and does his best to maintain some semblance of normalcy. He keeps a smile on his face even when he spots that familiar mess of dark hair across the room. He laughs loudly at something Suga says to him. He keeps an expression of good cheer plastered on his face even when all he wants to do is tear out his hair and run screaming from the room just because Tetsu is in the kitchen and Koutarou can hear the rise and fall of his voice and it makes him ache, deep deep down where he feels like his soul is supposed to be.

 

“I don’t need him,” he says softly when Kenma sidles up to him and nudges him. “Not like I need air or food or water.”

 

“But?”

 

“I need him like I need my favorite meal after a bad day. Like I need an extra blanket in a storm. Like I need a familiar voice when I call home.” He gives Kenma a sad smile. “I just. I just want him to need me too.” He and Kenma lean against each other as they look into the kitchen and watch Tetsurou deep in conversation with Daichi. “I miss my friend Kenma. I miss my Tetsu.”


	5. college

“We tried the long distance thing. It didn’t even work when we were on opposite sides of the city. How is it gong to work if I’m in a different country? I mean. This isn’t just university. This is a job. This is a career.”

 

Kenma stares at him for a few long moments that make Koutarou squirm. He’s about ready to start spilling secrets that Kenma hasn’t even asked for - anything to get Kenma to stop looking at him with those wide all seeing eyes of his - when he’s saved by the most unlikely distraction: Kageyama and Yaku giggling at something on Kageyama’s phone. Or, well, Yaku is giggling. Kageyama is doing that weird eye twitching nose scrunching thing where he almost smiles. It’s actually a little adorable.

 

Kenma is distracted long enough for Koutarou to slip away from him and into the hallway towards the bathroom.

 

Which is, of course, the moment he runs into Tetsurou for the first time since they spoke three weeks ago. Since they both let slip that they still think of each other and care about each other and maybe even love each other. That had also, sadly, been the first time they had talked in almost three months.

 

Before he can say a word his phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out with clumsy fingers. He’s not desperate for a distraction but he’ll take it. He can feel Tetsurou’s gaze on him, hot and searching.

 

_> > Kenma says you should just talk to him_   
_> > It can work if you just talk to each other_   
_> > You suck balls at communication apparently_   
_> > He also said that you need to man the fuck up and stop being g54wger_

 

He can hear a scuffle back in the living room and Kenma’s angry growl as he, no doubt, knocks Kageyama’s phone from his hands in retaliation for actually sending the messages.

 

“So, uh.” Tetsurou looks at him, smiles at him, and Koutarou’s heart shatters. “Hey you.”

 

“Hey you,” Koutarou mumbles. He’s barely heard under the commotion from the living room and Tetsurou steps closer as his phone buzzes. He pulls it out with a frown that Koutarou wants to kiss away and then he starts blushing and tilts his phone to Koutarou and it’s just like a million other time and Koutarou leans in to read the screen even though it’s really not his place anymore. Tetsurou still fits against his shoulder like he always did and probably always would and even if this never goes anywhere else ever again he’ll be okay.

 

Daichi’s voice enters the commotion from the living room and Tetsurou’s body shakes against his own with laughter. He watches the video call that Suga started with Tetsurou and can’t contain his own laughter as he watches Yaku tackle Daichi at the knees and drag him into the fray of whatever disaster is happening in the living room. Kageyama has an arm hooked around Kenma’s waist and Koutarou watches in absolute glee as Kei trips over a flailing limb and bounces off Keiji before collapsing to the floor in a useless heap.

 

“He’s clearly given up on life,” Tetsurou mutters in his ear. “Third time this week.”

 

Koutarou laughs and settles into the warmth against his side.

 


	6. pining

It is ridiculous, he knows, to be pining over something he had once and let get away. But he can’t help it. He really can’t. Because all he can think about when he closes his eyes is the warmth at his side while the curled over that video call, laughing and shaking as they watched their friends. All he can remember is a familiar breath against his cheek and fingers that had touched every inch of him curled in his sleeve. All he can hear is laughter that once upon a time felt as familiar as his own heart beat; and was just as necessary for his survival.

 

He had found out eventually that the laughter wasn’t a necessary requirement for life. Though it hadn’t stopped him from wanting it, from needing it, from staying up for days until exhaustion took over and forced him to stop dwelling on it consciously and, instead, dream of it.

 

He thought once that dreaming about it was the worst thing ever. That having their lives together, their attempt at love repeated over and over again in some sort of overly fond, ridiculously bright and shining dreamland was the most insidious evil thing that life could throw at him.

 

He knows better now. He knows that having that laughter at the tips of his fingers yet still out of reach is painful. That seeing a smile so familiar he would know it with his eyes closed and not being able to kiss it is agony. He knows that seeing those eyes focusing on him and not being allowed to just bask in the warmth there is torture. Because that warmth isn’t his. Not anymore. Not in the way it used to be.

 

Sometimes, when he’s trying to sleep and mostly only succeeding in staring at the ceiling and watching the lights flicker as cars go by, he thinks that maybe that warmth was really never his to begin with. At least not the way he wanted it to be.

 

They were too young. He had heard that a few times. Too hot headed. Too different.

 

He had heard a million different reasons why they hadn’t worked out. None of them had made sense.

 

He is still waiting for one that sounds even close to right. One that makes his heart stop aching. One that doesn’t leave ashes in his mouth and dust in his lungs.

 

He’s pretty sure he’ll be waiting a long time. Because the two of them together? It’s right. It’s the sun setting at night and rising in the morning. It’s water being wet grass growing towards the sky. It’s as natural as breathing. It’s calloused hands cupping his cheeks and a soothing voice telling him ‘I love you’ before he falls asleep.

 

He might never get to hear that again.

 

But if anything was worth waiting for, if anything would ever be worth waiting for it would be him and it would be them.


	7. flowers

Koutarou traces patterns between the flower petals scattered across his table. His fingers trail through rose petals, tulips, lilacs. Sunflowers and lilies and daisies adorn his counter in an assortment of vases and, on closer inspection, a few of his glasses. But what draws his attention isn’t one of the dozens of flowers in his kitchen. What draws his attention and stops his heart is the delicate orchid sitting on the coffee table in the center of his living room. It’s not the same one. There’s no way it’s the same one. There’s no way in hell that Kuroo Tetsurou with a black thumb that could kill a plant just by imagining taking care of it managed to keep the orchid Koutarou gave him when they graduated alive for all these years.

 

But somehow he knows it is. There’s not even anything special that distinguishes it.

 

He inches into the room like the orchid will vanish into a puff of smoke - just another dream of what they might have been slipping through his fingers - and spots a piece of paper on the table.

 

_Bokuto -_   
_I probably shouldn’t be telling you this but at this point I’m too tired to care too much about who will be mad at me if I do or don’t say what. So here’s the thing. Kuroo has kept this thing since you gave it to him. He called me for tips (which I didn’t have because I know nothing about orchids) and then pestered me until I came over and helped him research how to care for it and what kind of soil to use and the best fertilizer and so many other things I never knew a flower even needed. When he went to university he made me go with him to twenty-three different dorm rooms and apartments until we found one with the perfect amount of light. The first time the flowers fell from it and didn’t grow back within two weeks we stayed up for three days until I proved to him it was natural._

_I don’t know what happened with you two and I probably never will. But no matter what, I hope you realize how much you mean to him and how hard he worked to keep this orchid alive. Whatever happened to you two after graduation was the tiniest bump in the road. You two could move mountains together if you wanted to._

_So go move a mountain and plant some flowers with a man who clearly thinks the world of you._

_\- Oikawa Tooru_

_(PS I totally did not break into his or your apartment. Promise. Kageyama and Yaku had keys and are both totally willing to take milkshakes for bribes)_

 

He presses his hand to his mouth and bites his thumb to keep the sudden rush of tears and emotion from overwhelming him. He knows now what he has to do. It doesn’t matter if they’re not going to be in the same country for a few months. It doesn’t matter how many things they had forgotten to tell each other when they were younger.

 

What matters is the fact that Tetsurou spent countless hours figuring out how to keep one of the few things Koutarou had given him alive and how to make it thrive even after they had fallen apart.

 

He snatches his jacket up from the chair he had absently dropped it on when he got home and hurries back into the kitchen for his keys. He yanks his door open as he’s tugging on his shoes and crashes headfirst into a warm chest. Strong arms wrap around him to keep him balanced and that familiar laugh washes over him.

 

“Going somewhere important?” Tetsurou grins at him. Koutarou can’t stop himself from reaching up that tiniest bit and tangling his fingers into Tetsurou’s hair. “Bokuto?” Tetsurou asks cautiously.

 

“Tetsu. My Tetsu.” Tetsurou’s eyes widen. He can feel Tetsurou’s heart beating wildly where their chests were pressed together. “I miss you so much. I love you so much. I alway have. I just. We were just so stupid. We need to talk I know we do but… can I kiss you?”

 

Tetsurou gulps and brings a hand up to run his knuckles along Koutarou’s cheek.

 

“My Kouta,” he murmurs. “I love you too.” He bumps their foreheads together and then nuzzles and Koutarou’s cheek. “You can kiss me on one condition.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“I get to kiss you back.”

 

It wasn’t going to be easy. They weren’t going to be easy. But with care and dedication Koutarou was sure they would be able to bloom as beautifully as the flowers scattered around his apartment and would one day have the delicate strength and grace of the orchid blooming on his coffee table.


End file.
